


Strength and Gentleness

by ebonyandunicorn



Category: Primeval: New World
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebonyandunicorn/pseuds/ebonyandunicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To anyone else, her tears might have been seen as weakness, but Ken knows they represent just how strong she really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strength and Gentleness

The dinosaur that kills him appears out of nowhere. One moment Ken Leeds is standing in the centre of the room, and the next he has vanished behind the enormous bulk of the creature, his screams of terror first drowned out by its roar and then silenced forever as its jaws close around him. Ange, of course, can only stand and watch, petrified into hopeless stillness as always. She is unable to do anything, frozen in place again as her life is shredded to pieces before her eyes. It's Brooke, Bill, Sam all over again – yet another victim of the anomalies, yet another death Ange can do nothing to prevent, yet another life she can't save. The grief closes around her heart like a fist as the black weight of sorrow settles on her shoulders once more. 

+

Ange wakes with a cry, sitting bolt upright in bed. The tears continue to course down her cheeks as she reaches across in the dark for the familiar warmth of Ken beside her – except that he's not there. A whimper escapes her lips and she snatches her phone blindly from the bedside table, the sudden light from its display stinging her eyes as she scrolls with shaking fingers through her contacts until she finds his number. It takes a full five seconds for him to pick up, each unanswered ring only heightening her terror. She doesn't know where he is, and the vivid images from her nightmare are flying around in her head, fluttering insistently against her brain like the wings of shadowy black moths. 

"Ange?" he says at last. "Is something wrong?" 

Relief at the sound of his voice floods through her so strongly she feels light-headed. "Where are you?" she manages to ask, struggling to get out the words. 

"There was an anomaly alert," Ken explains. "I didn't want to wake you." 

It's not the first time Ken's been called away to deal with an anomaly in the middle of the night. Ange rarely wakes at the sound of the quiet alert, and if she doesn't, Ken won't tell her when he has to leave. Usually she's appreciative of not having her sleep interrupted, but not this time. "Can you come home?" 

"What's wrong?" 

Ange shakes her head before remembering that he can't see her. "Nothing," she whispers. "I just... need to see you. Please?" 

She hears Evan's voice in the background and Ken's muted explanation in reply. After a few moments, he returns to the phone. "I'm on my way." 

"Okay," Ange says quietly. Just before he goes to hang up, she blurts out instinctively, "I love you." 

His response is instant, though concern is clear in his tone. "I love you, too. Ange, are you sure you're all right?" 

"I will be," she tells him, "as soon as you're home." 

"I'll be there as soon I can." He hangs up and she puts the phone back, pausing to wipe her eyes on the sheet before getting quickly out of bed. One of Ken's jumpers is flung carelessly over a chair; ordinarily she'd be angry with him for not putting it away, but instead she picks it up and pulls it on. The fluffy wool is warm against her skin, his scent clinging to every fibre. The sleeves are too long for her; her hands vanish within them, but she doesn't mind being made to feel small by him, because she knows that he will protect her.

\+ 

Ange is no stranger to waiting. On numerous occasions over the long months they've spent dealing with anomalies, she has waited in her office, in the hallway where she stands now... even, once or twice, her heart in her throat, on one side of an anomaly while Ken is on the other. She's learned to distract herself, to take her mind off the hundreds of things that could go wrong when Ken helps Evan deal with creatures and cover-ups. Most of the time Ange can focus on work, tidy the house, find _something_ to do to keep herself from going crazy while she waits. This time, though, it's dark and she's alone, and the fifteen minutes it takes Ken to get home seems longer than any hour he's spent on the other side of an anomaly.

He jumps a bit when he opens the door and sees her waiting there. "Ange! You scared –" 

She cuts him off by throwing herself at him, her arms flying around his neck as she buries her face in his shoulder. Ken's arms come up automatically to steady her, wrapping firmly around her waist and holding her close as she cries. He doesn't question it, doesn't demand to know what's going on or push her away or even act surprised. Ken is one of the few people to have ever seen Ange vulnerable, and he's the only one who can make her feel better just like this, just by holding her and being there. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks her when the tears have more or less stopped. 

She pulls away from him a little to wipe her eyes on the sleeve of his jumper. "I had a nightmare," she tells him softly. Ange isn't often troubled by nightmares, and she would never tell anyone else about them, because she's practical enough to feel ashamed about how frightening they can be. Evan, for instance, would have laughed at her, but she knows that Ken will never judge her, that she can tell him anything and he will support her no matter what. "And I woke up alone," she adds, "and I didn't know where you were..." 

"Oh, Ange." Ken kisses the top of her head and rubs her back gently. "I'm sorry. I'm here now. It's okay." She's silent, leaning against him, and he holds her tight, trying to ward off the bad thoughts and to reassure her that everything's all right. "Do you wanna go sit in the living room for a while?" he asks after a few minutes. "I'll make you a hot chocolate." 

Ange sniffles. "Will you put in marshmallows?" 

"Of course." 

+

They snuggle together in silence on the couch, a blanket around their shoulders, the mug of hot chocolate warming Ange's hands. Only when she's finished it, marshmallows and all, does she speak again. "Something attacked you," she says, very quietly. "In the dream. It was huge. It... I saw it... kill you." She doesn't cry again, but she's trembling. "I just stood there," she continues. "Watching. I couldn't move, I couldn't scream, I couldn't... anything. It was like... It was like how Evan must have felt to watch Brooke die." 

Ken takes the mug from her carefully and puts it on the coffee table, then takes her hands in his and holds them as she speaks. "I couldn't do anything then either," Ange says, ignoring his movements. "For Brooke. Just like I couldn't do anything for Tony Drake, or for Bill and Sam, or for anyone who was killed by one of these things..." She takes a shaky breath and the tears begin to fall again. "I hate it," she whispers. "I hate this, Ken! I hate you and Evan and everyone throwing yourselves into danger every time an anomaly opens. I hate being helpless. I hate being useless. I hate having to wait for you to come back – I hate not knowing if you ever will, or if one day I'll get another call from Evan to say that somebody I love has been killed..." 

He holds her while she cries it out: the grief for Brooke and for everyone else who's died, the feeling of hopelessness, the fear she has to live with whenever a new anomaly opens and the people she cares about most in the world have to deal with it. To anyone else, her tears might have been seen as weakness, but Ken knows they represent just how strong she really is. Each day Ange lives with fear and with loss, and yet she still manages to get her work done, to be a friend for Evan when he needs one, and to be the best wife Ken could ever hope for. She might think herself helpless, but she is more help to all of them than she could ever know. 

"I'm sorry," she says at last, sniffing away the last of her tears. "I'm okay now. Let's go back to bed." 

"You sure?" Ken asks gently. 

"Yes." 

+

It's a king-sized bed, but somehow they always end up curled up next to each other on one side. They lie facing each other, their foreheads almost close enough to touch. A yawn stretches Ken's face and Ange knows he's only minutes away from falling asleep, but he makes the effort to ask anyway: "Next time an alert goes off at night, do you want me to wake you before I leave?" 

"I don't want you to leave at all," Ange says before she can stop herself. She knows it's unfair – somebody has to deal with these things, and somehow the responsibility has fallen to their makeshift team, of which Ken is a vital part. "I'm sorry," she adds quickly. "I know you have to go. I know you're important. I just wish..." 

"I know," Ken murmurs. "You wish this could all be over, so that none of us would have to deal with it. Don't worry, my dearest. Evan will find the answer to the anomalies soon, and maybe then it will be over. But in the meantime, we'll work it out – together." He brushes a stray curl from where it's fallen over her cheek back behind her ear. "You know you're important to all of this, too, don't you?" 

She tries to glare at him, but it's ineffective, like it always is whenever he flatters her. "No, I'm not," she answers firmly. "All I do is sit at home, worry incessantly, and have nightmares." 

"You're important," Ken says, "because, whenever I have to leave, you give me something to come back to." 

The last traces of her false anger disappear entirely, replaced by the shy, honest smile that only his compliments can evoke. As sweet and precious as that smile is, he kisses it away, his mouth lingering on hers until she finally relaxes, the stress and sadness of the evening melting into nothingness. When he breaks the kiss she snuggles into him and closes her eyes. "Good night," she whispers. "I'm glad you're home." 

"Good night, my love," he says softly. "Sweet dreams."


End file.
